


look at the flowers.

by Anonymous



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Child Death, Child Murder, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dead Toby Smith | Tubbo, Execution, Grimdark, Hurt No Comfort, Insanity, Inspired by The Walking Dead, Mental Disintegration, Murder, Psychological Trauma, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Trauma, Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Walkers (Walking Dead), Wilbur Soot Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28976748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The constant death and decay surrounding Tommy has finally broken him.He commits an unforgivable sin and is proven to be a danger to himself and others.Wilbur knows what has to be done. For Tommy’s sake. For the group’s sake. There’s just no other option.(Inspired by Mika and Lizzie’s deaths in AMC’s The Walking Dead.)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 104
Collections: Anonymous





	look at the flowers.

Living through a zombie plague is bad enough as an adult. Wilbur couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for a child. Every time he saw Tommy and Toby the child-like innocence they both adorned when he first met them seemed to fade more and more every day. 

They hardly ever joked with each other. They never played. They just stayed with each other at all times and protected one another - because that’s all they knew at this point. Protect at all costs and don’t let your guard down even for a second. They didn’t behave like children. They were no longer children. They couldn’t be if they wanted to survive. 

If Wilbur had to guess, he would assume that the apocalypse had affected Tommy the most - and in the worst ways. He’d witnessed his mother be ripped limb from limb by a Walker. He had to do the deed when his father needed to be put down after contracting a horrible, mutated strain of the flu. He had lost many friends as quickly as he gained them. He had no family left. No friends - save for Toby. All he had was the group. And even that wasn’t certain, at times. 

He knew Tommy didn’t fully understand the situation with the Walkers; no one really did. But most knew that once you turn, you’re no longer human and you must be put down. Then there were others who still saw the infected as people and had a difficult time seeing them any differently. 

Tommy belonged to the latter, unfortunately. His mind couldn’t process it. If they’re breathing, and moving, and making sounds, doesn’t that mean they’re alive? It’s just reanimation. A second chance. Everyone can come back if you let them. 

Right? 

— 

The breaking point seemed to come on an otherwise average Tuesday afternoon. Wilbur was in the kitchen preparing a kettle of tea for him and the crew that resided in this house - himself, Tommy, Toby and Schlatt. He poured water into the kettle and set it on the gas powered stove to boil when he swore he heard something outside. 

He turned his head to look out the window and at the front garden of the house in the middle of the woods. His blood went cold as he saw Tommy squealing and seemingly trying to escape from a stumbling, groaning, rotting figure. 

Wil immediately ran outside and grabbed the pocket knife he carried with him at all times from his front pocket. “TOMMY!” He shouted, bounding over to the scene. “GET AWAY FROM IT!” 

Then, the most odd and frightening thing he’d witnessed in a while happened - Tommy tried to stand between him and the Walker. The blond boy was begging, asking Wilbur to stop and to leave the creature alone.

Without giving it a second thought, Wilbur shoved him aside, knocking the boy to the ground with a thud and a grunt as he caught his fall on his hands. Tommy turned back and saw Wil attack the Walker, shouting a drawn out and desperate “NO!” as the blade met the head of the creature, killing it instantly.

The boy scrambled back onto his feet and went to the scene of the execution, Wilbur sitting up and ripping the blade from the zombie’s head. Tommy began crying and shouting, to Wilbur’s surprise. 

“Why did you do that?!” Tommy begged, shaking and sobbing in place. “She was my friend! She was still alive! We were playing and you killed her!”

Wilbur could not believe this. The adrenaline in his system from both killing a Walker and witnessing the child almost get bitten overwhelmed him. Rage filled his body in an instant at the thought of Tommy getting mad at him and calling him a murderer when he was only protecting the fucking brat from getting eaten. 

“You could have been KILLED!” Wilbur shouted back. He never shouted at Tommy or Toby before - he never needed to. Neither of them have ever done something so dangerous and stupid before. 

“We were just playing! She - She just wanted a friend and you - you KILLED HER!” Tommy’s face was red and soaked with tears as he grabbed the sides of his face and his breathing hitched and became close to hyperventilating. “She alive! She was my friend! You killed her! You killed my friend!” He repeated. He was pulling at his hair and gripping tightly at his chest through his shirt as if it was going to pound out of his chest. 

It then dawned on Wilbur, right then and there, that it was possible Tommy wasn’t all the way there anymore. He hoped that wasn’t the case. He really wanted nothing but the best for him and Toby. “Tommy...” He said, trying to keep calm. Tommy only kept repeating and sobbing and stumbling around like he was going to collapse. 

“What if I killed YOU?! Huh?! You killed her! You killed my friend!” He shouted and wailed, his voice becoming hoarse. 

Schlatt heard the kettle go off in the kitchen and went to turn the stove off, when he heard the commotion outside. He stared out the window and saw Wilbur beside a Walker corpse and Tommy screaming and crying about the creature being his friend. ‘Christ...’ He thought. ‘This can’t end well. He’s lost it.’ 

—

The next day, Wilbur and Schlatt were returning from hunting - only to not be so lucky in finding anything this time. They still had some non-perishable food in the house, but that would only last so long. If they couldn’t find anything else, they’d need to find another place soon. 

As they were discussing their next hunting spot, they came into the front garden. Wilbur saw Tommy and Toby in the grass, just where they were when the adults had left. But, something wasn’t right the moment he laid eyes on the scene. Toby was lying on the ground. Unmoving. 

And Tommy was holding a bloody knife.

Holy fucking shit. 

No.

Please fucking no. 

Wilbur dropped his bag and ran over to the scene of the crime, his heart beating rapidly and his head feeling light. Schlatt wondered what the fuss was a out and then saw the blood, cursed under his breath and followed. 

The two adults scrambled onto the scene and took everything in. There was blood all over Tommy’s hands, splatters of it on his clothes and some even on his face. His pupils were the size of pin-pricks. But aside from the obvious, he had an overall innocent, almost child-like appearance to him. Wilbur hadn’t seen that in him for ages. He had a faint smile on his face, like he was excited for the adults to see what he’d done. 

“Don’t worry!” The boy spoke, having read the grim expressions on his group member’s faces. “He’ll come back! I didn’t hurt his head, so he’ll come back. We just have to wait a while, you’ll see!”

Schlatt was speechless. He’d seen many brutal, messy incidents before during his time in the apocalypse. But never, ever had he been completely speechless before now. The idea child murdering another child in cold blood was something unfathomable to him - and what was worse, the murderer was smiling and happy. He really expected Toby to reanimate. He really thought everything would go back to normal in a while. 

Schlatt took a few steps toward Toby’s body, only to br stopped by Tommy unexpectantly pulling a pistol from his back pocket and aiming it directly at him. 

“Stop! Please, just listen!” Tommy begged, the hand the held the gun shaking tremendously. Tears were springing into his eyes. “Just wait, he’ll come back! You’ll see... He’ll still be human. They always come back. We just have to wait!” He said desperately. “Please, please just - just wait!” 

Wilbur silently focused on the corpse of the brunet child laying behind Tommy. Toby’s eyes were still open - every single ounce of life having been drained from them. Crimson leaked from the sides of his mouth. Deep gashes in his chest were still leaking blood. Bloody handprints on his shirt and around his neck suggested a struggle. He was struggling and panicking in his last moments of life. He was murdered at the hands of his best friend who he’d sworn to protect. His last moments were full of pain and betrayal. 

Wilbur was snapped out of it once he looked up and saw Tommy pointing a fully loaded weapon at him and Schlatt. He needed to think, and fast. 

“W-we can wait.” Wilbur said, trying to keep his voice steady. “We can wait, promise. Just... just give me the gun, Tommy.” He said and carefully reached a hand out. The blond boy looked at Wilbur, deciding what he should do. “Please Tommy. Give me the gun, we’ll wait.” 

“P-promise?” Tommy asked meekly. His tone of voice and mannerisms didn’t match that of a killer. He still looked and sounded like a young teenage boy. 

“I promise.” Wilbur said, looking Tommy dead in the eye. There wasn’t a innocent soul behind them anymore. Only suffering and fear. Any ounce of humanity and any grip on reality Tommy had was gone now. 

Tommy waited a moment before slowly handing the gun to Wil. Schlatt inched over carefully and took Tommy by the hand - the blood soaked, sticky hand. 

“You and Schlatt should head inside,” Wilbur said, trying his damndest to keep it together. His eyes kept falling back on the child’s dead body. “It’s not safe out here. I’ll... I’ll tie Toby up so he can’t escape and we can wait for him to come back.” This was evil. This was disgusting. This was the most grim and demented thing he’d ever witnessed. 

Tommy looked at Wil skeptically. “Promise that’s what you’ll do?” He asked. 

Wilbur nodded, feeling the lump in his throat get tighter and tighter. “Yep. I’ll use his shoe laces.” 

Tommy waited a moment before deciding to follow Schlatt back to the cabin. As he went with the man, he occasionally looked back at Wilbur, as if to check if he was breaking his promise. 

Wil waited until Tommy and Schlatt had entered the house before letting the tears pour. His face crumpled and he let out a strained, heart wrenching sob as he toppled over and became sick. The sight and smell of the scene was grotesque, and it had finally gotten to him. How could this happen under his authority? How could he be so senseless in leaving a clearly mentally unstable child alone with another child? This was his fault. He swore to protect these kids with his life and he failed them. 

He stood back up and shuddered, wiping away the sick from his mouth as he let out sputtery, sob-laced breaths. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. No one’s ever really taught how to handle a situation like this before it’s happened.

As his eyes fell on the corpse of Toby once more, he realized that there was one thing he certainly needed to do before it was too late. He thought about using the gun, but figured the noise would be a dead give away to Tommy. So he picked up the knife that was already stained with Toby’s blood. He stared at it for a moment, then at the boy. Fresh tears fell from Wil’s face as he bent down next to the body, gently closed the boy’s eyes and drove the blade into his forehead. 

Needless to say, Toby didn’t feel a thing. 

—

It had been a full day since the incident. Nobody slept. Nobody talked to one another. Tommy had found out that Wilbur broke his promise and secluded himself to his room for the night and most of the day. 

Wilbur was numb. He didn’t feel sadness, he didn’t feel anger, he didn’t feel fear. Even Tommy’s threat of murdering him the day before yesterday didn’t phase him. He didn’t know what to feel. None of it seemed real.

Schlatt was up all night, not for his sake, but for Wil’s and Tommy’s. The kid was clearly a hazard to himself and to others at this point. He didn’t want anything else bad happening throughout the night. 

And Tommy didn’t sleep because he was in so much pain over his friend. Why couldn’t they just wait like he told them to? They would have finally seen that he was right. Toby would have come back if they just waited. But no, Wilbur had to ruin it, and now Toby was gone forever. He spent the whole night crying and mourning his friend from his room. He couldn’t believe this. His only friend was gone. He killed his friend for no reason. 

Neither of them wanted to say it, but both Wilbur and Schlatt knew what was going to happen. Either Tommy would kill himself or kill them eventually. He was a danger to their entire group. They could not in good conscience bring such an unhinged, far-gone person back into the community. 

Something needed to be done.

And they knew what that was. 

It was dark. It was grim. Neither of them would have done it if there was another option, but there wasn’t. Tommy was too far gone. He was broken beyond repair. He was suffering in his mind and it had finally shattered him. There was no reasoning with him anymore. He had to go. 

Wilbur decided he would do it. Tommy trusted him more than Schlatt (maybe not at the moment but in general). It took a lot of talking and convincing, but Tommy did finally come out of his room to go with Wil to pick wildflowers for Toby’s grave.

The two exited the cabin and walked through the front garden and into the woods. Wilbur tried to keep the conversation light and uncomplicated as they talked about their surroundings. Wil even explained how to tell the status of a far away fire by the color of it’s smoke.

“You know everything, Wilbur.” Tommy said, giving a faint smile. He looked to Wilbur as a wise older brother figure. He’d always wanted an older brother, and he’d always imagined him to be just like Wilbur. 

Wil gave half a smile before it quickly faded. “No I don’t.” He said bluntly, tears forming in his eyes as he looked away from Tommy. Everything was starting to catch up to him now. Toby’s bloody dead body kept flashing in his head. His cold dead eyes. His blood covering him. It was too much. 

Tommy’s face fell as he heard the pain in Wilbur’s voice. “What is it?” He asked. The man’s silence made him more upset as he asked again, more desperate. “W-what is it?...” Tears started to form in his eyes as well as he studied Wil’s tense body language. “Are... Are you mad at me?” Tommy asked, his voice trembling. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?” 

Still silence from Wilbur as tears fell from his eyes. He couldn’t even bare to look at the kid anymore. Tommy’s breathing hitched as he looked at Wilbur desperately. 

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry that I hurt him,” He said, tears rolling down his cheeks as well. “I just needed you to wait...” He tried to explain his twisted reasoning. 

“I know.” Wilbur said, his throat tight and sore. 

Tommy’s heart broke, beginning to tremble. “I’m s-sorry..” He said. “... You’re mad at me...” He cried and turned away, bringing his hands to his face as he weeped. 

“I love you, Tommy...” Wilbur choked out. “And... and everything will be okay eventually.” They both knew that was a lie, but he was trying to be as calm and inconspicuous as possible. He didn’t want to traumatize the child any further. 

“I’m sorry..!” Tommy cried. “Pl-please don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry...” What had he done? His friend was gone and now his older brother figure was angry at him. There was no going back from any of this. He’d ruined everything. His whole life was ruined. He had no one now. He sobbed and hiccuped as he wiped away at his tears like a scared child. That’s what he felt like at the moment - for the first time in a very long time, he felt like a child again. And all for the wrong reasons. 

Wil wanted to try and lighten the mood. Just so that Tommy’s last moments weren’t full of fear or pain. “Just... Just look at the flowers, Tommy.” He said over the boy’s crying. It was like talking to a toddler to distract them from a tantrum, but it was all he could think to do. “Look at the flowers.” 

He slowly reached into his gun holster and drew out his weapon, being as slow and quiet as possible. Tommy looked down at a patch of wildflowers blowing gently in the wind as he sobbed lightly. It was a calming sight. 

“Just... just look at the flowers...” Wilbur said shakily. He lifted the gun and aimed it at the back of Tommy’s head. He cocked it, holding his breath at the unmistakable click it made. He hoped to God that Tommy didn’t hear it. He trembled and put his finger on the trigger...

Tommy sniffled as he stared at the flowers, admiring their beauty. They reminded him of a time before the apocalypse. When his family would go camping and spend all day and night outside in the wilderness. Tommy loved admiring the foliage and the flora. The sight of these wildflowers brought him a moment of peace, even if it was just for the moment. 

_BANG_

...

The sound of the gun firing was punctuated by the sound of Tommy’s lifeless body hitting the ground with a thud. He fell forwards onto the patch of flowers he was admiring mere seconds ago. 

Pure silence. 

Wilbur dropped the gun and toppled over, heaving and begging for air as his chest felt tight. A strained and sorrowful wail escaped from his throat as he collapsed onto his knees. He killed a child. Something he never thought he would ever have to do in his life, something so incredibly dark and ghastly and haunting to think about. And he just did it. 

He bent over and basically face planted onto the grass, wailing and choking and hiccuping and hyperventilating. He rolled onto his side and hugged himself, trying to comfort and ground himself in any shape way or form. He was so scared. He was sick. He was convinced this was all a horrible, hellish nightmare that he would wake up from. 

But it wasn’t. 

It was all, painfully, real.


End file.
